


Demons

by Cynicwithatwist



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Gen, dark nightmares, psychological weight of killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3965905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynicwithatwist/pseuds/Cynicwithatwist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She could run in her sleep and run while awake, but some dark truths you cannot escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons

There were buildings, houses that seemed solid in some areas and transparent in others.  Created from memories.  Obsidian black sky above and chalky dirt under foot.  The part of the street that Yona walked was visible, but every other section of the town seemed to be shrouded in a mist. 

Unsure what she was doing there Yona continued on.  Why was she alone?  Where were Hak and the others?  There wasn’t a soul in town and yet she couldn’t help but be enveloped by the eerie feeling that creatures lurked in the fog.  Hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she took off running.  The thick grey wisps of condensation seemed almost like walls, forcing her to follow one solitary path. They were herding her.

Yona skidded to a halt when her eyes caught sight of what lay ahead.  There was a girl with hair as red as the dawn, bow and arrow raised at the ready, focused on a target.  She was aiming only a few feet away where an older man and a young boy were locked in a tussle over something.  Yona didn’t want to witness the next chapter of the story.  She already knew what happened, already had felt the guilt rub her heart raw.  She didn’t want to watch herself kill an innocent again.

She hadn’t wanted to kill him, he wasn’t like Kum-Ji, but what other option did she have?  The man was starving to death, like many in the village.  Every move he made highlighted his bony stature, a face so gaunt it seemed inhuman.  Eyes that were already dead.  Even so, to attack a child for food was something Yona couldn’t just passively observe.  She had just wanted to break them apart, but the man wielded surprising strength.  Those on the verge of madness always did.  The boy’s face was turning blue, so blue, from where the man held him around the throat.  He was fading and she didn’t have a choice.  _She didn’t have a choice_.

The girl released the arrow and let it fly.  Yona never missed her mark.

She lurched up from where she slept, panting hard.  A dream.  It was only a dream, but her accelerating heart and sweaty skin told her otherwise. Reaching up to move some of the hair that clung to her face she jerked her hand back with surprise. Her palm was red.  Slick with some sort of gleaming liquid.  She flipped over her other hand to find it in an identical state.  Grabbing her blanket she scrubbed at the color but it remained.  Bile rose in her throat, panic setting in.  Tossing the cloth to the side Yona began scratching at the skin with enough force to engrave lines.  She made no progress.  It wasn’t a coating, they were stained.

Leaping up Yona darted out of the tent, past a groggy Hak and her sleeping companions, straight into the forest.  Slivers of moonlight illuminated the trees well enough so she could prevent herself from crashing into them.  In the soft glow the trunks seemed to be oozing a burgundy substance.  It ran towards the ground, leaving trails in its wake.  Yona couldn’t breathe.   

Running, running, but to where?  All Yona could see was red permeating through the forest, the ghost of the man’s face, eyes widening in pure horror.  Those final fatal moments as the arrow plunged into his heart.  Now he was here followingher.  Accusing eyes tracking her every motion, demise still lodged firmly in his chest.  No matter the way she turned he’d appear, cloaked in black shadows like a messenger of death.  Watching, watching, always watching.     

She fell to her knees roughly, screaming up at the crimson soaked moon for solace. 

_It’s your fault._

Some demons whisper sweetly in your ear for all of time.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm pretty proud that my summary came out like a mini poem. As for the actual story, I personally believe this is something Yona might have to face one day. Sometimes your options are limited, and even the best ones can be bad.


End file.
